She stared at me for one long second before she laughed, dry and sharp. “Cinnamon raspberry is Celeste’s favorite, Ethan.”
I blinked. “No, that can’t be right-“
“That the only person whose tastes mattered to Mom was Celeste?” She shrugged. “Sounds about right to me.”
She scoffed. “I can’t fucking believe her.”
I exhaled. “It was an honest mistake. There’s no need to be so hostile; we’re family.”
Her eyes narrowed, and I immediately regretted my words. I fought the urge to take a step back, remembering how she’d shoved me almost halfway across the room.
“Family.” She repeated the word as if it were a foreign language. “Do you even know the meaning of that word, Ethan?”
“I-“
“Because last I checked, family doesn’t push you away for one mistake. Family doesn’t scoff at you and hide you away and write you off because of a defect. And family knows what fucking dessert you like.”
“Oh, come on,” I sighed in exasperation. “Like you know mundane facts like that about-“
“Your favorite pastry is lemon squares-specifically the ones at that little bakery opposite the pack house. Your favorite color is gray; you hate classical music because you think melody without lyrics is a ridiculous phenomenon, and you’ll die before you put pineapple on pizza.”
I blinked at her, stunned.
She crossed her arms. “What about me, big brother?” she sneered. “What’s my favorite color? Favorite food? Pet peeve? What music do I like or dislike?”
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Nothing.
That silence was a goddamn scream.
Her face crumpled for a heartbeat before it hardened again. “That’s what I thought.”
“Sera, I-” I had no words.
‘Call it the law of elasticity, call it self-preservation.’ Gavin’s words were deafening in my head. ‘Sera reached her limit and snapped.’
“Best get those to Celeste before they get cold,” she said, nodding to the pastry bag in my hand.
She stepped back into her house. “I’ve done just fine without you all for the last ten years, and I don’t need olive branches or attempts to rebuild decimated bridges.”
Her voice broke a little, but she pushed on. “If you care about me like you so adamantly claim, leave me the fuck alone.”
The door slammed in my face. I stared at it, a hollowness spreading in my chest, quickly filling up with guilt and frustration.
Just then, my phone buzzed.
It was an unknown number, but I instantly knew who it was.
‘Venue secured. You ready, Alpha?’
I stared at the text, the ache in my chest shifting into something sharper. Something hungry.
Oh, I was ready.
I needed an outlet for the torrent of emotions swirling within me.
And if the avenue for that happened to be the woman driving me to the edge of madness, all the better.
MAYA’S POV
Fuck, he was hot.
I couldn’t help thinking that perhaps sparring wasn’t the physical activity I should be engaged in with my mate.
Surely those toned arms would be better served holding me up against a wall rather than throwing punches.
“I didn’t realize when you said combat, you meant a staring competition,” Ethan said, an eyebrow raised as he eyed me from the edge of the ring.
I’d been wary of bringing him to OTS yet, so I’d chosen an MMA gym near my apartment.
The smell of sweat and talcum powder filled the air, yet his scent still managed to evade my senses, setting Nyra on edge.
I let out an amused huff, turning my head away so he couldn’t see the heat crawling up my neck.
“Oh, don’t worry,” I said, gripping the edge of my t-shirt and pulling it over my head. “You want a fight? You’ll get one.”
I smirked when his eyes darkened at the sight of my toned torso in nothing but a black sports bra.
“Let’s get it over with,” he said, his voice hoarse. “The sooner I pin you on the mat,”-he smirked “the sooner I can pin you in my bed.”
A thrill ran through me.
I’d dated around a bit, but none of them had given me even a quarter of the excitement I got just by standing in the same room as him.
Despite his snarky comment, I let my eyes run down his body one last time. He was stripped down to a black T-shirt that hugged his muscles deliciously and training pants, eyes burning with a singular focus that made my pulse skip.
Alpha. Dominant. Controlled.
The idea of snapping that control sent another thrill down my spine.
I didn’t wait for a countdown. I launched at him fast-no warning, no warm-up. His eyes flared for a nanosecond before he caught the fist I threw at his face.
Stepping to the side, he swung his arm around me, trapping me against his body. “That’s quite the punch you have there,” he murmured into my ear.
His heat radiated around me, his grip tight around my body-unyielding, deliberate.
My first instinct was to sink into his embrace. My second was to fucking move.
Dropping my weight, I hooked my foot behind his heel and twisted sharply, using his momentum against him.
He stumbled just enough for me to slip out, twisting in his hold like water through fingers.
My elbow jabbed into his ribs as I spun, and I ducked low, sliding behind him before he could recover.
“You always that handsy on a first date?” I said, breathless but smug.
He turned to face me, grinning like I’d just given him a gift.
“You call this a date?”
“I’m having fun.” I smirked, cocking my head. “Aren’t you?”
He chuckled, low and slightly feral. “I’m about to.”
Then he charged.
He was good, I’ll give him that. His instincts were honed, his blocks solid. But mine were sharper. Cleaner. I moved like smoke, struck like a blade, and for the first few minutes, it was beautifully even.
We circled each other, heat rising off our bodies in waves.
I swept my foot toward his knee, but he caught my arm mid-move and twisted, redirecting my momentum. I spun with it, rolled through the motion, caught myself on my hands, and kicked back up to my feet.
Sweat prickled at the base of my neck.
“You’re holding back,” I said, breathless but goading.
“And you’re taunting me,” he said, voice low and dark.
I shrugged. “Fair’s fair.”
Then he stopped holding back.
His hits came faster. His control slipped. Not out of recklessness, but because his wolf was riled. Challenged. Drawn.
And mine? Nyra practically purred, loving the pressure, the proximity. The friction. It was a high unlike anything I’d ever felt before.
More Kickass Werewolf Reads
Dive into our collection of free werewolf romance novels—where fierce Alphas, daring heroines, and heart-stopping twists await. Every story burns with forbidden desire, loyalty, and destiny. Don’t wait—here’s a world where love bites hard and nothing is stronger than the call of the mate.
Leave a Reply